"Sometimes you suffer so much you don't want everything to go to waste."

EAST ORANGE — The Rev. Jean Maurice had the money to pay his mortgage and utility bills.

But he figured it could be used for a better purpose, one greater than nearly losing his home and forgoing lights for a month.

Maurice gave it to his church — the Temple of Unified Christians — when the East Orange landmark fell behind on its mortgage.

"I did it to keep the doors open," he said.

On any given day, the church feeds and clothes the homeless and counsels alcoholics and drug addicts. There are tutoring, assistance for those out of work and referrals for services the church doesn’t have.

Maurice could only do so much to save the red-brick building at Main and Prospect streets. His church was still short each month on the mortgage, and now the bank plans to take the property if it doesn’t come up with $350,000 in 75 days or less.

The congregation, unless it hits the lottery, needs a miracle. There are 200 members, but they don’t have that kind of money.

Members give what they can with offerings as small as their shoe size or one as generous as $1,000 from an elderly lady.

"This is how I say grace," she said, wanting to remain anonymous.

Whatever is not in the collection plate, the congregation believes faith and action will make up the difference.

Musicians don’t take a salary, Maurice hardly gets anything, either. The church is planning fundraisers, including a banquet and concerts. It’s on Twitter and Facebook, sending out a distress signal: Help.

Look for the church on GoFundMe, too.

Altagrace Camara says the church is right where it belongs. And she’s in there three times a week, whenever the doors are open.

"It’s like food," she said. "It’s something you can’t be without."

With very little time left, the church is not flinching to save this East Orange cornerstone. The original church was built in 1832, but the Romanesque-style building you see now came along in 1878. It’s located in the area known as Brick Church. The congregation was Presbyterian, but membership decreased and the church deteriorated over the years.

Walls in the main sanctuary are peeling. The ceiling has holes from a leaky roof. Pews have been placed behind the altar so they won’t get wet. There are no lights in the empty room, except sunshine gleaming through stained-glass windows.

The conditions, however, still did not sway Maurice from buying the church in 2007.

He saw the possibilities of repairing it, plus his congregation needed more space than the storefront it was using down the street. After moving in, the church set up chairs for service in another section of the church next to the main sanctuary. It’s a large, oval-shaped room with a stage. The balcony reminds you of box seats at an arena.

Everything was fine at first. New members joined. Donations were constant. Then the recession hit, and the church has yet to recover.

Tithes and offerings dried up when members lost their jobs. Contributions the church received from charitable circles stopped, too.

Dreams of renovating the church became just that — dreams.

"Sometimes you suffer so much you don’t want everything to go to waste," Maurice said. "You want to see the result, the fruit of it. So we just believe that God is going to open the door somehow."

This is personal for Maurice. He was married in the red-brick church, not realizing he would buy it one day. The move here represented growth from his father, who started the church in 1971 in a Montclair park. Maurice said it was called the Haitian Baptist Church, the first Haitian congregation in New Jersey.

In 1990, Maurice took over from his dad and changed the name to what it is now — the Temple of Unified Christians. The church has moved four times, hoping this historic church building would be the last stop.

It’s like a home for Christine Excellent, who drives from Queens every week to attend the 8 and 11 a.m. services.

The good word, delivered in Creole and English, is lively. The music, with its distinct Caribbean influence, catches your ear as you walk by.

The devotion, make no mistake, is authentic and strong. Picture this if you can: A broken furnace last winter did not stop the faithful. They huddled around electric heaters, giving praise and thanks in the cold.